


Dinner Guest

by My_Trex_has_fleas



Series: Folie A Deux [12]
Category: Poldark (TV 2015), Return to Treasure Island (TV 1996)
Genre: Attempted Sexual Assault, Blood and Gore, Implied Cannibalism, Jim is not a well puppy, M/M, Murder Husbands, Psychopathology & Sociopathy, Revenge, Russian Roulette, Serial Killers, this is messed up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 15:12:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13102866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_Trex_has_fleas/pseuds/My_Trex_has_fleas
Summary: A Christmas party goes wrong. Jim picks up the pieces.





	Dinner Guest

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MarigoldVance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarigoldVance/gifts).



> This is a Christmas drabble for Mare, who gave me this wonderful prompt. A wee drabble for you to make you feel better :)
> 
> Best read when listening to Railroad Track by Willy Moon.

The gun was a Colt .45 revolver. It was made from blued steel, the barrel gleaming in the light of the candles clustered on the table, the snowy white of the tablecloth spotted with crimson. It looked almost ethereal, the contrast making Jim want to lick the sticky drops off, feel the rasp of cotton on his tongue.

‘One round.’ He leaned back in his chair and looked at the man sitting in front of him, his eyes narrowed as he studied his face. ‘One chance.’ He breathed in, smelling the acrid stink of the man’s sweat. Chemical markers were something he’d become particularly attuned to, the way people smell when they are under stress or subject to something that would scare them to death if you let it run long enough.

This was exactly how the game was being played.

‘One shot?’ The man’s trying to keep calm. He was not letting his fear rule him, even though Jim knew he probably wanted nothing more than to succumb to it.

‘One shot.’ he replied, his smile stretching his face into a shape that was coloured by the madness inside him. ‘That’s all you get.’

**********

_The Christmas party was the last thing Jim wanted to attend and he said as much. Ross pouted prettily and shook his dark curls and opened his legs in an attempt to bribe him into going, but Jim was not feeling it. Not even Ross, gorgeous in skin tight jeans and a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up, bright red cashmere scarf around his neck and tinsel in his hair, had been able to convince him._

_Later, he would regret being so stubborn, so reluctant when Ross had asked him to go with._

_Now he stood at the front desk of the shabby downtown hotel, glaring at the receptionist as he stood and inwardly raged against the man who’d thought he could put his hands on what was his._

*********

The man stared at the revolver, swallowing hard. His pupils were blown, the drugs in his bloodstream doing their job at keeping him numb from the waist down, but still allowing him to respond and be perfectly aware of what he would be subjected to.

Jim had told him it was ostensibly to prevent him from running away, and there was enough of the paralytic in the IV hooked up to the man’s arm to keep him in the chair Jim had strapped him into, leaving just his arms unbound.

After all, he would need those to eat.

********

_He got the room number by threatening to knock on every door until he found what he wanted and the threat of disruption had been emphasised when he’d bought both doormen to their knees when they’d laid their hands on him. The terrified man behind the front desk had spat out the number in a desperate attempt to get rid of him and Jim was moving before he’d even finished speaking._

_He kicked the door in, following up with a shoulder barge that broke the lock enough for him to force his way in. From the bed, Ross stared at him with barely conscious dark eyes, his shirt already off and his jeans undone. Jim had been around drugs enough to know he’d been roofied with something that had made him completely biddable and it enraged him._

_The man with him had both hands up, a smile on his face as he babbled something about not knowing Ross had a boyfriend and they were just getting to know each other a little better and that he’d been game for it._

_Jim broke his nose with one punch and then picked Ross up from the bed, cradling him against his shoulder as he left the room._

**********

The man was crying, horrible rasping sobs with snot hanging from his nose and his eyes red rimmed.

‘You said one shot.’ His voice was tight with terror and Jim was certain that if he’d been able to he would have pissed himself.

Jim lifted the revolver and spun the barrel, his blood catching fire as it clicked into place then aimed the revolver at the man, sighting right between his eyes.

‘I never said how many times though.’ he replied and pulled the trigger.

**********

_Jim carried Ross out the hotel and to the waiting car. He eased him into the back, his only focus getting him back to their apartment so he could take care of him and check him for injuries._

_Ross clung to him like a koala, his face buried in Jim’s shoulder._

_‘I’m sorry.’ He was as close to hysterical as Jim had ever seen him. ‘I’m so sorry, Jim.’_

_‘Shh.’ Jim got him in the car and stroked his hair as he settled in beside him. ‘It’s okay, baby. I’ve got you now.’He looked to the driver and caught a glint of eyes that were such a deep brown, they almost looked maroon in the lights from outside the car._

_‘Where to?’ Jurgis asked and Jim held Ross to him, feeling his rabbit-quick heartbeat._

_‘Take us home.’ he said._

*********

He made the man eat every time the chamber came up empty. Jurgis had provided the food, a delicately seasoned dish that resembled veau blanquette, save for the chief ingredient.

It gave Jim great satisfaction to know that the man had no idea just what was in it. He watched on, every mouthful alleviating the darkness inside him a little so he could enjoy his little tableau.

**********

_At the apartment, Jim sat and watched Ross like a hawk as he sweated out the drugs in his system. Jim could cure as well as poison and he had several compounds that would do the trick against the stuff Ross appeared to have been given. He’d injected one about twenty minutes before and it seemed to be aiding Ross’ recovery well enough, but he was still watchful._

_Ross didn’t remember much, just that he’d been given a glass of champagne by the man, a money man in one of the production companies that were courting upcoming stars at the party. It was supposed to all be above board, actors, directors, producers and media people all mingling for the festive season._

_He got up and went to get a bottle of water from the bar fridge in his studio, bringing it back and cradling Ross by the back of his neck as he fed it to him. Ross drank, his olive skin pasty and clammy to the touch._

_He finally had enough and Jim let him back down. He stroked the matted curls back from Ross’ face and kissed his forehead, Ross’ skin damp to the touch._

_‘I love you.’ he said it simply and watched Ross’ face crumple._

_‘I’m sorry.’ he whispered and Jim shook his head._

_‘Nothing to be sorry for, baby.’ He sighed and lay down next to him, hauling Ross in against his shoulder. ‘You’re safe now. Sleep.’_

_Ross settled in, his breathing finally slowing and evening out. Jim thought he was asleep until he heard the soft murmur._

_‘Don’t kill him quickly.’ Ross had his eyes closed, one hand fisted in Jim’s shirt._

_Jim pressed a kiss to the top of his head._

_‘I won’t.’ he replied._

***********

The dish was almost empty.

Jim spun the barrel.

He got up and moved to press the revolver against the man’s forehead. The man looked up at him with bloodshot eyes and whimpered.

Jim smiled at him and blew his brains out all over the wall behind him.

**Author's Note:**

> For those with morbid curiosity, Jim and Jurgis have kidnapped the man that tried to rape Ross, cut his dick off and are feeding it to him. That's Jurgis' little touch.


End file.
